


The Bitterness of Love and the Sea

by readwriteandavengers



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Mouth-to-Mouth, Near Death Experiences, Near Drowning, Pirates, Pirates AU, not historically accurate, rescuing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readwriteandavengers/pseuds/readwriteandavengers
Summary: One dark evening presents itself as any other; mundane. Raymond Palmer is attending another ball at the request of his father. The ball is like any other... what with Ray trying his hardest not to outwardly groan at each of his father's obvious attempts at getting him to marry.The night would end as it always does; with Ray leaving the party early and taking a stroll through town as the moon hangs above....had the party not been interrupted by pirates crashing in through the dance hall with torches and swords. Somehow, Ray gets entangled with a couple of pirates who decide to take him to their captain in hopes of gathering a ransom.





	The Bitterness of Love and the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the beginning of another long coldatom au from me! I started this one a very long time ago and I've been in the process of updating it these last few days and filling in some gaps, so I apologize if some of the 'vibes' feel like they're changing from scene to scene. I don't know when I'll have chapter 2 out, but I'm hoping I can stay strong with this AU! Thanks for reading!

The sun shines above the town, warming the frozen ground with the early signs of Spring. The warmth brings a smile to Ray’s face, as well as his light frame. He no longer needs to wear his long, winter coats. He gets to wear his new, tailored spring coat. It’s black, with golden lining underneath, and intricately grafted golden buttons lining the front. 

He walks along the dirt streets, his hands locked behind his back, with his chin high. They haven’t had a chance to put in cobblestones yet, but Ray’s sure the roads will look gorgeous once they’re done. As for now, the dirt roads fill their purpose. 

The shops are beginning to open up, since it’s still early morning. Ray loves this time of day; watching the sun lifting higher and the smiling faces of the passing townspeople. 

Ray’s nearing the end of the street which is when the door of the last shop opens before him. Nate Heywood steps out, smiling up at Ray as he tries to keep all his books from falling out of his arms. The two friends have walked through this routine many times.

“Good morning, Nate,” Ray greets, reaching out for some of the books. Nate hands over two gratefully. “Heading to the library?”

Nate nods. “Returning these books to pick up four more.” He and Ray line up side by side and they continue down the road. 

Ray grins, inspecting the covers of the two books he has. “I must get you a bag to carry all of these books!”

Nate laughs, giving a small shrug as he and Ray round the corner. “It’s all I can really do, considering my parents won’t let me help them.”

Ray can sense the disappointment in Nate’s voice. He’s known Nate since they were children, which means he also knows that Nate has a disorder called Hemophilia… meaning even everyday tasks can be dangerous for Nate to do. Ray remembers when they were children, he and Nate had been playing in the back. A gardening tool was left out and Nate had stepped on it, causing a bad gash in his foot. Ray thought the bleeding was never going to stop… Because of that, Nate’s mother is extremely overprotective. 

The family of Heywood’s are blacksmiths, all but Nate, of course. Nate’s parents all but banned Nate from the family business, urging him to learn instead… and Nate listened. He spent most of his teen years, and now his adult years, surrounded by shelves and shelves of novels.

Ray purses his lips, sharing Nate’s look of disappointment. “That work doesn’t compare to the book work you do everyday You’re one of the most intelligent people I know.” 

Nate rolls his eyes but he leans over into Ray’s space to bump shoulders. He changes the subject, watching his feet as the road becomes rougher. “Are you excited for tonight’s party?” 

Ray sighs, giving Nate a sideways glance. “You know I despise these things. Sydney always makes a show and my father tries to parade me around like a prized horse to the unwed women in this town.” 

Nate snorts but turns to give Ray a sympathetic look. “We can hide in the back near the snack table.” 

The comment elicits a laugh out of Ray, and he finds himself nodding thankfully at Nate. “That sounds like a lovely plan. Thank you.” 

“That’s what friends do!” Nate exclaims, reaching out to sling his free arm around Ray’s shoulders. “As for now, I say we enjoy the warmth we’ve been granted on this Spring day. We can return these books and head to the harbor.”

Ray smiles in return, giving a curt nod in agreement. “Very well. We shall.”

And they do just that. The books have been returned, they share some kind greetings with the owner of the library, Nate picks up two more books before heading down to the dock. They take a seat at the edge of the dock, where the sun is warming their skin and the smell of the sea wafts back at them.

They sit there, allowing two hours to pass them by before finally their legs grow tired and their skin is too warm and turning pink from the sun. 

Together, they head back into town before splitting ways outside Nate’s doorway with promises of meeting each other later at the ball. 

-

As expected, Ray’s stomach churns the second he enters the ballroom. The lords are gathered off to the side with their suits on and chatting boisterously. Their bellowing laughter causes Ray to grimace. How men can be so entitled, Ray will never know. 

He keeps his shoulders back and his back straight as he scans the room, looking for his anchor in this sea of chaos. It doesn’t take him long to spot Nate off to the side, looking rather miserable as he takes a sip of his punch. 

Ray heads over, moving through the crowd carefully so he doesn’t accidentally bump into anyone. He narrowly escapes two giggling girls who step back into Ray’s path without realizing. They look up at Ray as a gasp escapes both their lips, but then they’re smiling and blushing and apologizing as they rush away. 

Ray should have said more. Or anything for that matter. Ray should have complimented them, but nothing came to mind. He swallowed down the nerves and then they were off, so he gives a frustrated sigh and continues on his journey over to Nate. 

“You look happy,” Nate comments, which causes Ray to give him a look that says  _ you have no idea _ .

“I hate these things.” Ray grumbles as he places his hands in his pockets. 

“Have no fear. I found us this nice spot so he can meld into the wall and pretend we’re not even here. We’re also close to a window in case we need to jump out of it.” Nate smiles proudly up at Ray, which at least gets Ray to crack a smile. 

“Aslo,” Nate continues, “If it makes you feel better, Unice Willdrop asked me to dance before you got here. She stepped on my foot and I’m positive it’s going to be very purple tomorrow.”

“Oh no…” Ray offers Nate a sympathetic look. 

“Yeah,” Nate says dryly. “And it was as bad as you’re imagining it to be.” 

Nate takes a moment to make his empty glass evident. “I’m going to get another. Would you like anything?” 

“No thank you,” Ray declines. Nate’s about to step away when Ray has to add, “Maybe try avoiding Unice on your way over.”

Nate gives Ray a dry laugh as he walks away, which gets Ray chuckling under his breath as his friend leaves. 

He settles back, scanning his eyes around the room with mild interest. Little has changed, with men still loudly laughing and their wives huddled off to the side as they gossip. Only the younger girls seem to be enjoying the party, while the younger boys scowl when they’re asked to dance. 

Ray’s been alone for at least five minutes, which is longer than i should take to get a drink, so he looks up and scans for Nate. 

Of course, Nate has been corralled into a conversation he looks less than pleased to be having. Ray feels for his friend, but can’t help smirking at Nate’s forced smile. 

The pure idiocy the two of the have to deal with from the small town is almost too much to bear. But at least they have each other. 

Ray has that exact thought as he glimpses out the window to see an odd glow off in the distance. It doesn’t take long for Ray to realize it’s fire, spreading through the town. 

Ray’s stuck in stunned silence until he realizes that there are figures running around with torches. They’re lighting the town ablaze. 

Pirates. 

Ray’s blood runs cold the second he hears the hollering from outside. The rest of the party doesn’t seem to realize, since the music is drowning out the majority of the ruckus. He has to see for himself though, just to be sure, so Ray rushes to the large window and peers outside. 

Just as he feared. 

Pirates are descending on the town, knives, torches, and guns in their hands. They look like monsters hungry for chaos as they edge ever closer, and they certainly are close. 

Ray pushes himself away from the window frame, running towards the crowd. He can feel his warning already forming in his throat, but the sound is overpowered by the clack of the large oak doors being forced open. The wood smacks against the wall as pirates filter in, like an infestation of rats. 

The crowd lets out a wide range of noises, loud screams, demands to grab weapons to defend themselves, and the sound of feet hitting the ground with fervor as everyone in the hall tries to force themselves out of the other exit. Anywhere away from the pirates. 

Ray takes one step back, brown eyes still glued to the pirates in disbelief. He’d heard about them in tales, but never did he imagine they’d actually invade his home. With a grounding breath, Ray turns back around and scans the crowd. He’s not sure what he’s doing at first, but then his mind fills with thoughts of Nate. His head snaps to the right, finding the other standing motionless near the snack table. 

Ray runs to Nate’s side, stepping in front of him to brace both hands on Nate’s chest. He starts to push Nate back and Nate wordlessly moves with him. 

“Ray,” Nate breathes when Ray gets the off to the side of the giant ballroom. Ray runs his hands along the wall until he finally grabs onto the knob. “Ray, what are we going to do?” 

Ray pulls the door to the coat room open, then he turns to Nate with wide eyes. “You are going to run. There’s a window in the back closet. You need to slip out and run somewhere safe.” 

Nate looks hesitant but then there’s another scream and Nate’s ripped out of his thoughts. He nods. “Okay. Okay, yes. But where are you going to go?” 

“I’m going to try and help. You need to go. Stay safe.” Ray reiterates, pushing Nate into the coat room. Nate goes, giving Ray a worried glance before the door is finally shut behind him.

Ray takes a second to breath, trying to ground himself. His heart is racing, and he feels worry stuck in his throat. He hopes Nate makes it unscathed… 

Ray can hear the screams behind him get louder. He peers over his shoulder finding the pirates lighting the drapes on fire. The fabric immediately catches and burns dangerously fast. The pillagers don’t stop there. They’re stepping forward to light the tables clothes on fire. Some of the men grab the glasses and start to throw them across the room in hopes of the object smashing against something or someone. 

Ray turns back, finding a little girl has now fallen to her knees and is covering her ears. He darts forward, his instincts kicking in as he sprints to her side. He falls to his knees once he’s close enough and slides the rest of the way to shield her with his frame. 

She shakes as he places his hands on her shoulders. He turns her towards him, but she keeps her hands covering her ears. He nods, motioning for her to keep them covered. 

Seeing Ray lets the girl relax. She leans into him, allowing him to pick her up. He does so speedily, scooping her up in his arms and rising to a standing position. 

He’s about to sprint off, anywhere that’s not here, when he notices the glint of metal poised in front of him. 

Ray stares down the sharpened sword, his lip curling up in hatred. Slowly, he lifts his gaze to the pirate behind the sword. 

The pirate looks crazed, with his eyes alight as he scans Ray’s body up and down. He then sighs, seemingly disappointed with what he sees. 

“You ain’t got no gold on you!” The pirate yells angrily, keeping his sword up as he glares furiously at Ray. “Now I’ve got to kill ya for nothing!” 

“I’ve got lots of gold,” Ray feels himself explaining, his heart racing as he tries to grip onto logic. “I can show you. Every last bit of it is yours but you have to let her go.” 

The pirate ponders the idea for a second, his eyes dipping down to the girl Ray has in his arms. The pirate’s lips curl up into a toothless sneer as he reaches out with a dirtied hand to brush the girl’s hair away from her face. Ray doesn’t allow it though, moving her away before the pirate can lay a finger on her. 

The pirate’s hand freezes in the air for a moment as his gaze returns to fury. He huffs as he drops his hand and raises his sword. He’s about to bring it down on both of them, and all Ray can do is turn around to shield the girl from the attack… but nothing comes. 

Ray opens his eyes, peering over his shoulder just in time to watch the pirate’s body fall to the ground, eyes closed and mouth hanging slack. Ray’s eyes widen as he tries to scramble away from the pirate, not sure if he’s dead or alive. 

“Don’t move,” a gravelly voice demands. 

Ray looks up, finding two figures standing before him. There’s a man with a shaved head and scrubble along his jaw. His gaze looks hardened, especially as he starts to watch the fire that’s currently engulfing the ballroom. Next to him is a woman with tanned skin and a frown that rivals any frown Ray’s ever seen. She stares at Ray with an emotion he can’t discern, but then her eyes fall to the girl that’s hiding her face in Ray’s chest. 

“Rory, this place is going to come down.” The woman warns, her eyes still on Ray and the girl. 

The man sighs as he tears his eyes away from the enticing flames and turns to stare at Ray and the girl instead. He seems flippant as he jerks his chin in Ray’s direction. 

“You’ve got gold, huh?” The man, Rory, inquires. 

Ray swallows but finds himself nodding. “I’ve got a noble father and an unnecessary amount of riches. It’s all yours if you allow her safe passage out of here.” 

Rory glimpses down to the girl and she stares back unwaveringly. The bottom half of his jaw moves to the side as he thinks, but then his eyes flash towards Ray for more questioning. 

“What’s your name, boy?” Rory demands. 

“Ray. Ray Palmer.” He manages to say, but then a beam crackles above their heads and comes soaring down to the ground. It lands against the floor with a loud boom, causing the girl in his arms to jump. 

Rory and the woman don’t even jump, but the woman does look around the ballroom to inspect it. She looks displeased. Finally, she turns to Rory with a sigh. 

“We need to get out of here.” She grits out, yet even then she only seems minorly inconvenienced.

Rory nods. “Drop the girl off outside. I’m taking the Palmer boy.” 

The woman attempts kindness, smiling at the girl Ray’s trying to protect. But he won’t be much help if the building comes crashing down. “Hi, sweetheart. My name is Amaya. I’m going to get you out of here now.”

Ray watches as the woman he’s now learned is named Amaya reaches out. She scoops the girl from his arms, although the girl struggles and tries to reach for Ray. Ray feels a mix of shock at the pirates stark difference in personality. The pirate used a term of endearment. Ray doesn’t know of any pirate that does that.

But Ray’s cloudy mind clears for a moment.

“No, wait-” Ray tries, reaching out for the little girl. He wants to see her get out safely. He can’t bare the thought of her getting captured by pirates and forced into a life of slavery, but then there’s a pain at the back of his head and everything turns black.

-

Ray comes back to consciousness a few minutes later, although he doesn’t know how long he’s been out. All he knows is that he’s currently slung over a man’s shoulders as if he’s a prized buck carried by a hunter. The pounding in his head surpasses any coherent thought he could have, and each rough step this man takes only makes his head hurt more. 

A wave of nausea courses through Ray so severely that he feels his throat bob. He bites down on the inside of his cheek instantly, hoping that the pain in his mouth will stop his sickness. It works, but Ray still feels ultimately uncomfortable. Despite this, he tries to lift his head to see where he’s going. 

The earth seems to spin around him, causing many things to streak together in a sickening array of colors. Mostly there are vibrant reds and oranges from burning fires, the blackness from the night sky and the gray curling around from the smoke. Distantly, Ray can still hear the screams and gunshots going on in the background. 

Ray’s reminded that he needs to  _ fight _ . For the little girl, for his friends, his family. Ray starts to squirm amongst the man’s shoulders, but black dots are bursting in front of his eyes now.

“ _ Stop _ ,” Ray tries to argue, but he barely breathes the word out before he falls unconscious again. 

-

Ray sits with his back straight and his chin high, despite the pure anxiety he feels coursing through his veins. It’s like ice, crippling his lungs, crawling down his veins, covering his heart. His hands are numb; he feels prickling in his fingers, like little needles poking against his skin. He tried to hold out hope, but now that night has fallen and he’s in the Captain’s quarters… he’s not feeling very optimistic. 

Ray plays back the last few hours, since he’d been abducted. 

Ray had been brought in by the Captain’s right hand man, one who communicated more in grunts than in words, but the Captain clearly trusted him. The man had a shorn head but thick, dark brows and eyes that shined with experience. Ray could tell this man had seen many things, to the point his default expression was exhaustion. 

Many of the crewmembers avoided him, except for two women. The first Ray already knew Amaya. She was beautiful, with dark skin and deep brown eyes. She had put her hair up since last time he saw here, when she stood across from him as he begged for them to let the little girl go. A few curl fell down around her face, but looked elegant despite her worn garments. She worked hard on the ship, that much was clear from her rolled up sleeves and the worn knees in her trousers. 

“Rory,” she said with a sigh. The man guiding Ray stopped, giving her a jut of his chin in acknowledgement. The woman’s eyes trailed from Rory to Ray, glimpsing down his form with the slightest frown. “Is this really a good idea?” She finally asked, her eyes meeting Ray’s for a split second. 

Rory’s head swiveled towards Ray at the inquiry, to which Ray looked back at him with quirked, innocent brows. 

“Aye,” he answered as his grip tightened on Ray’s forearm. He pushed Ray forward slightly and then back towards him, just to jostle Ray. He succeeded in pulling an annoyed sigh out of his captive. It didn’t feel good having Rory manhandle him, all while his captors insisted on keeping Ray’s hands tied behind his back. They had already departed and were at sea. There’s not much Ray would be able to do. “The son of a rich rat.” 

Amaya hummed, eyes still appraising Ray. She didn’t look happy, almost uncomfortable with having Ray in her presence. “Be on your way then. I’m sure the Captain doesn’t want to be kept waiting.” She gave Rory a crooked smirk, and the way she says ‘captain’ is almost sardonic. 

Rory seemed to get the joke because he let out a snort and then pushed Ray forward. “Get moving.” Rory demanded as Ray stumbled forward. If it wasn’t for the tight grip Rory had on him, Ray would have tumbled forward onto the wooden ground, face first. 

Rory pulled harder on Ray’s wrists to straighten him out, eliciting a hiss out of Ray. He paid him no attention, continuing down the hall to where their Captain must reside. 

That’s where Ray’s been for the last half hour, anxiously awaiting the arrival of this  _ captain _ . He’s been imagining what he’ll say to this rotten man since he knew he was going to be forced to dine with him. Ray was never told his name, hadn’t been sure who he was throughout the entirety of the kidnapping, but soon he’ll be face to face with the man orchestrating this all. 

The icey anxiety begins to mix with his boiling anger, which those emotions create a poor combination because Ray feels as though he could burst into tears. He shouldn’t be in this position, he shouldn’t be on this ship, he never should have been kidnapped. Ray’s the  _ quiet  _ one. All Ray ever wanted to do was learn, invent things. He wanted nothing but simplicity. Yet here Ray sits. 

Ray’s thoughts scatter from his mind the second he hears the knob to the room start to move. His eyes dart over to the tarnished metal, watching as it twists and the door soon opens. The captain walks in, catching Ray’s gaze instantly. He remains stolid as he enters. 

Ray feels himself suck in a breath but barely hears it over the ringing in his ears. The door shuts with a soft click, and the captain walks in further. His boots clack against the wood with every footfall, which Ray usually found as a satisfying noise up until this moment. Now the sound is threatening. 

The captain takes the seat opposite of Ray, pulling the wooden chair out and allowing the legs to noisily grate against the floor. The flames of the lamps and candles within the room cast dancing shadows against this man’s face, making him all the more mischievous. And menacing. 

He sits down in the seat, his blue eyes landing back on Ray. He seems utterly cocky as he settles back, grabbing onto his goblet for a quick sip of ale before he proceeds. 

Ray bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying anything stupid but the captain’s irritating lack of expression causes Ray to wait for the pin to drop.

“I hope you’ve found everything to your liking,” the captain sits forward as he sets his goblet down. His eyes bore into Ray, over the short distance of the table. Here, even in the dim lighting, Ray can see the anger the man harbors for Ray. Unrightfully so, if Ray may add. 

Ray doesn’t say anything back. His jaw tightens and he simply stares back. 

“Now, Raymond, this is going to be a very tense meal if there’s no conversation.” He sounds scolding. He even clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth to show his mocking displeasure. 

“I don’t know why you’ve taken me-” Ray’s resolve cracks and his words come out gritted between his teeth, but the captain is interrupting him. 

“Oh, I’m sure you do. I’ve heard how smart of a man you are.” He leans forward, placing one elbow on the table as he stares over the lamp at Ray. The reflection of the fire flickers in the captain’s eyes intensely. 

“Clearly you are not,” Ray returns, feeling as though he’s gasping through his words. “What do you think your reward will be for kidnapping me? My father is a stingy man and a vengeful man. At the very least, you’ll be at the top of all wanted lists, you’ll perhaps receive a small sum in hopes of returning me to my home and surely you’ll still kill me anyway to avoid capture. I can guarantee you that I am not nearly worth all of the trouble this will cause.” 

The man stares back, having lost some of his anger in favor of calculating Ray’s statement. He seems to at least ponder his words before he sits back and slides back into his cool demeanor. “Don’t worry about the affairs, Raymond. We’ll receive what we ask, and we’ll figure out what to do with you after that.” 

From that, Ray should be relieved that he won’t die tonight, but he’s mainly focusing on the fact that he  _ will  _ die. He’ll just have a few more nights of torture, surely, before he’s killed.

“You must be famished.” The captain waves his hand at the food lamely, eyes scanning the plates in front of them with disinterest. “I’d eat now, considering meals on the ship can often be missed.” 

Ray feels his eyes narrow and his hands shift behind his back. “Despite the fact that my hands are bound, I find that I’m not very hungry.” He knows his fate lies in the hands of this very dangerous man, yet Ray can’t help the venom dripping from each word. 

He expects to see anger at Ray’s disrespect, but instead the captain looks up over their dinner, unimpressed. His eyes fall down Ray’s form… scrutinizingly. Which is exactly the last emotion Ray had been expecting. If Ray’s being honest, he feels a blush rise to his cheeks and a spark of anger in his chest. He sits up straighter, refusing to let his eyes drop. 

“If I untie your hands, are you going to fight?” The captain inquires, eyes back to Ray’s now. The prospect of Ray putting up a fight doesn’t seem to displease the captain, but he seems to think it unlikely. 

Ray grits his teeth. He wants to, he does, but he’s trapped on a large ship with many weapon-wielding men and women. There’s no chance of Ray surviving any fight he starts. “No.” Ray forces out. 

“Good.” The captain’s sentiment is clipped but emotionless. He’s pushing himself out of his chair and makes it to Ray’s side in two strides. His next statement is equally as bland and demanding. “Stand.” 

Ray swallows, but he does as he’s told. He supposes that’s what he best get used to, for however long he’s going to be held captive. He rises, keeping his disobedient thoughts swirling around his head instead. When the captain disappears behind Ray, his anxiety climbs. 

Even more so when he hears a dagger being pulled from its sheath. 

Ray tries to look over his shoulder, his heart racing, but the captain has his free hand on Ray’s bicep which keeps him rigidly forward. 

“What are you doing?” Ray tries to sound demanding, but his worry soaks his words. Ray had built up his bravery, but hearing his voice sound so wobbly causes his facade to crack. He’s stuck. He’s stuck on an awful boat with a crowd of pillagers, murderers, criminals. Ray won’t last a week. 

Ray squeezes his eyes shut, expecting the metal to glide against his skin, leaving red hot pain behind, but instead the blade is pressed against the rope. The sound of the dagger slicing through the rope is satisfying, but not as satisfying as finally having his hands free. The heavy cord falls down to the ground, landing with a  _ thump _ , but Ray’s already brought his hands around to his front to rub at his reddened wrists. 

Being able to rub at the broken blood vessels, which will surely turn into nice purple bruises by the time morning comes, is soothing. Ray feels his shoulders sag just by being able to have movement of his arms again. The disbelieving laugh that leaves him sounds pathetic even to his own ears. 

His rejoicing doesn’t last for very long because the captain has his hand on Ray’s shoulder and is forcing him roughly back into his seat. Ray’s rump hits the wood and he’s nearly surprised it didn’t crack under his weight. He doesn’t focus too long since the captain is walking around and back to his own seat. 

“Now eat. After this you will sleep in one of the hammocks below deck and you will report back to me tomorrow morning. Understand?” The captain says, holding Ray’s eyes over their dinner. 

Ray gives the captain a curt nod back before attempting to eat what’s on his plate. He doesn’t eat much since his stomach is still churning. And only getting worse now that he knows he’ll be forced to sleep on a pirate ship, surrounded by pirates, in the middle of the ocean. 

The captain finishes his food, then stands and waves for Ray to follow. He leads Ray out of the room and down the hall, where they meet a another crew member. 

This pirate is young, with short hair and a surprisingly kind smile. His skin is dark, and he has a tattoo on one of his forearms that Ray can’t make out very well. He stops to give a respectful nod to the captain. 

“Jax, I need you to show our guest to a hammock.” 

“Sure thing,” Jax says, stepping aside to allow the captain to step around him and out of sight. “Alright, follow me,” Jax says next, but not unkindly. 

He leads Ray out and then down some stairs, and of course each person they walk by stares at Ray with unabashed hatred for him. And yet not one of them know him. 

“Here,” Jax says as they come upon an open hammock. He pats it once, then turns to Ray. “You’re a pretty big guy so the best I can say is, try and get comfortable.” 

Ray opens his mouth, just to say  _ anything _ , but Jax steps around him and leaves. 

“Great,” Ray says miserably as he stares at the fabric strung up. He opens the hammock and lays himself in side, trying to keep the balance. “You’ll get through this.” He tells himself. “You have to.” 

Ray’s exhaustion kicks in after fifteen minutes. He passes out surrounded by the thin fabric and the sound of water splashing against the ship’s side. 

-

Ray’s slumber was nice, dreamless, but nice. Up until the point that he felt himself being wrapped within his hammock, being constricted within the confines of the fabric. He tries to bolt out, but he hears the snickering of the ones who are responsible and his heart starts to race. He tries to think of all the torturous things they have planned for him. 

He’s not going to go down that easily. He starts to fight, he tries to slip through, but they have him wound inside the cloth tightly. Ray’s a large man, but they’ve got  _ larger _ men holding him prisoner. 

His anxiety is climbing and he wants to scream but his throat has closed upon itself. Claustrophobia has kicked in and Ray feels his chest start to rise and fall with his rapid breathing. Panic is all he can think about, his mind is only screaming at him to get free but he  _ can’t _ . 

There’s a slight change of air, Ray realizes, and he thinks they must have taken him out onto the deck now. Ray listens, terrified, as the men joke about whatever it is they plan on doing. There are curse words thrown around and phrases Ray’s not very familiar with. But then someone’s speaking and Ray stops struggling and focuses on listening, in case whatever the person is saying is imperative. 

“Being a son of a rich rat means you’re dirty!” A pirate seethes, shifting his grip on the fabric twisted at the end of Ray’s entrapment. 

“Filthy!” another pirate adds on. 

“Can’t have that on the ship.” His companion agrees, getting a large chortle from the rest of the crew. “Gotta get you clean, boy!” He yells, and Ray can feel the hammock start to swing. 

Ray braces his shaking hands against the taut cloth, looking from side to side despite the fact he’s got limited visibility. Through the cloth he can only see the shadows of the men that are putting him through absolute hell. He wants to argue his own case but by now there are black spots in front of his eyes and his whole body feels numb. 

He’s felt like this once before. The town’s doctor called it a panic attack. Surely this won’t help Ray. He needs his wits about him in a case where he’s trying to fight for his life. But he has little time to think on his current situation when he’s being thrown. 

Ray feels butterflies in his stomach as he falls, and he’d been hoping to hit the deck by now but that’s not happening. The fabric falls away from him flailing his arms, but what was once a subjectively nice bed is now an awful hinderance. Ray agrees with that conclusion further the second he hits the water. 

The momentum he’d gained from the fall sends him deep into the ocean, deeper and further than he thinks he’s ever been. Even while visiting the sandy shore, Ray never ventured out further than where he could comfortably wade in the water. Where he knew there would be the clumpy sand beneath his toes. Now there’s nothing. 

Some part of Ray yells at him to swim, to push his way up to the surface, but his brain and his limbs are working poorly together and he only ends up flailing his arms as his legs struggle with the cloth that’s knotted between his feet. Much to his concern, he only seems to be sinking. 

Logically, Ray thinks he should take a breath to calm himself down… except, he opens his mouth and tries to breathe in but only takes a large gulp of salty water into his lungs instead. Ray coughs and his body tries to reject the water by taking another large breath, which is really causing his vision to grow blurry and his mind to grow tired. 

Ray succumbs to the darkness with the last thought that something’s wrapping its arms around him. 

-

“So what exactly are you having that Palmer kid do while he’s on the ship? Meals are already tight, Snart.” Mick grumbles as he and Snart walk side by side down the narrow hall on the ship. “Now we have a useless mouth on the ship that needs feeding.” 

Snart lets out a heavy sigh as he and Mick near the doorway to the deck. He situates the cuffs on the end of his coat, turning just slightly to lift a brow at Mick. “Surely whatever his father decides to pay for him will make up in whatever small amount of potatoes he does eat. After all, you are the one who brought him aboard.” He responds dryly. 

“We could always kill him.” Mick offers. 

“We have a code, Mick. You know that. He’s done nothing wrong.”

Mick doesn’t seem pleased with the answer, but has no argument. It’s true to say that Mick doesn’t like Ray only because of his social class. But he doesn’t challenge Snart, so he grabs onto the knob of the door and pushes it open. He steps out first, followed by Snart. At first, the two notice nothing strange. They hear a few of the crew, but their voices are jumbled together since they’re on the other side of the ship. Then, they see the crew as they come to the bow. 

Snart’s brows come together in confusion at first as he sees the heavy sack they’re dealing with. Then he realizes something’s trapped inside, and everything starts to make sense as he sees the group of men throw that sack off the side of the ship. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Snart fumes as he sprints forward, right until he reaches the barrier. He peers over, watching the way the water starts to settle. He can see Ray’s shape just below the surface, but he isn’t coming up…

Without thinking, Snart’s shucking off his jacket with immense speed, but he had just adjusted his the cuffs of his sleeves to fit tighter so now he’s struggling. With a strong growl, he forces his wrists out and throws the jacket somewhere behind. Distantly he can hear Mick scolding the crew with loud, growled, swears and threats, but Snart’s stepping over the barrier now. 

He stares back down at the water, finding that Ray still hasn’t risen from its depth. He feels dread wash over him as the cool ocean breeze rustles the collar of his shirt. He takes a deep breath, hoping he isn’t too late as he jumps off of the ship and into the water. 

The water is cold enough that it could rip a gasp from Snart, but he keeps his lips pursed tight and breathes out through his nose as he delves deeper downward. He can see Ray’s form through the haze of the water, but he feels so far away. He must be deeper than Snart assumed, so he strengthens his kicks and tries to push forward. 

Ray’s just within Snart’s grasp, so he grasps onto Ray’s shirt first. He’s frantic to get the other back on the ship, especially when Ray doesn’t respond to Snart grabbing onto him. He pulls Ray closer, wrapping one arm around Ray’s chest so their bodies are flush together. Snart then turns his head upwards and guides his other arm through the water.  

It seems like they break the surface of the water just in time because Snart’s chest was constricting painfully. He takes in a ragged gasp of air but shakes his head to get the water out of his eyes. He can see the edge of the island in the distance so he sets off course, using his one arm and legs as best he can while keeping Ray afloat. 

With each stroke, Snart can’t help but notice the lack of breathing he feels from Ray, but there’s no stopping. He needs to reach land, and fast if he wants to keep Ray alive. Luckily, it isn’t much longer before he feels ground grazing against his toes and soon he has complete footing. 

He’s exhausted, so by the time the water starts to shallow out he’s barely able to keep Ray afloat. He pulls him up the shore as fast as his numb arms will allow him, but even then the waves lap against his and Ray’s feet. 

“Raymond,” Snart huffs out, falling against Ray’s side as he tries to inspect the other’s face. Ray shows no sign of waking up, and the way his head lolls to the side limply is almost as concerning as the way Ray’s chest hasn’t moved. 

Snart coughs as he clambers to his knees, digging his feet in the sand as he hovers over Ray’s body. He takes one hand and grabs roughly onto Ray’s chin while pressing his fingers on his other hand against Ray’s throat. There’s a pulse. That’s good. 

“Maybe you  _ are  _ more trouble than what it’s worth,” Snart curses as he tilts Ray’s head back with a ginger touch. Then, while pinching Ray’s nose, Snart takes in a deep breath and closes the distance between them. He latches his mouth over Ray’s, and exhales, then lifts for another strong breath and clamps his mouth back over Ray’s. 

When Snart feels like his lungs have nothing left, he pulls back and tries to catch his breath as he presses his fingers to Ray’s throat. The pulse is still there… but weak. With a growl, Snart sits up on his knees and joins his hands on Ray’s chest. 

“You’re going to feel like shit after this.” Snart comments as he starts to pump his hands against Ray’s chest. He hopes to expel whatever water is still in Ray’s chest. He does compressions for twenty seconds before pinching Ray’s nose and descending on him again. He breathes with all his might and is glad when he feels Ray pull away. 

Snart detaches, watching with wide eyes as Ray turns to the side and violently spits up all water he’d managed to take in. The pure relief he feels at seeing Ray breathing again momentarily blinds him from the anger he feels at his crew. They will face his wrath later, but for now all he can think is:  _ Thank God. He’s alive. _

Snart’s hand finds purchase on Ray’s shoulder, guiding him back down to lie in the sand when it appears there’s no more water Ray could possibly spit up. Ray allows himself to be guided down, his golden-brown eyes still hazy from having just returned to consciousness. His skin is pallid, his lips are nearly blue, but he’s blinking as things start to come back into focus.

Snart watches every breath Ray takes, glad to sit in silence as Ray recovers under the early morning sun. It causes his dark, wet hair to glisten in the light, alongside with his iridescent skin. Ray’s lashes are clumped together from the water, and there are a few specks of sand along his cheeks and one at the corner of his nose. Snart’s gaze follows down the ridge of Ray’s nose to fall on his lips that have a sheen from the salty ocean water. Ray’s lips are move with each shallow inhale. 

Every muscle in Snart’s body seems to give him some form of relief as he lets his shoulders fall. He exhales, reaching over to cup Ray’s cheek to turn his head in Snart’s direction. “Raymond-” he starts, but Ray’s eyes land on him and there’s pure fury there when his gaze settles on Snart. 

Ray pushes Snart’s hand off of him in a flash, moving to prop himself on his elbows. He looks pained as he does so, launching himself into a coughing fit in the meantime. Snart can only imagine how badly Ray’s lungs must burn. Regardless, he doesn’t reach for Ray again. He lets the other work through his coughing. 

Ray falls onto his back when the last cough seems to be ripped from his chest. He breathes, staring up at the sky at first just to grasp onto the fact that he’s  _ alive _ . He’s not in the awful depths of the ocean any longer. He’s not on that awful ship, he’s back with land below him, even if the sand is clinging to him uncomfortably. 

“Raymond-” Snart tries when the air grows quiet, but he stops short when Ray’s eyes crawl over to him. He expects anger, he expects pure fury and yelling and maybe even a punch. 

But Ray only looks hurt, with his lips pursed tightly and downturned. It’s as if he’s trying to hold back tears, which he barely manages. Snart can tell by the way that Ray’s bottom lip starts to wobble that those might start flowing soon. Ray, on the other hand, takes in a deep breath through his nose and presses the backs of his hands to his eyes. 

“Are you hurt?” The idea pops into Snart’s mind that perhaps the tears are out of pain. Maybe there’s an ailment on Ray’s form that Snart can’t see to the eye and that’s why Ray looks so injured. 

Ray doesn’t answer. A minute passes, and then the next, until finally Ray sets his hands in the sand and forces himself to sit up. Leonard moves to put his hand on Ray’s shoulder but the other instantly shrugs off the contact, as if any contact from Snart burns him. Snart’s hand falls to rest on top of his own thigh, allowing Ray his stubbornness. 

Neither of the two get to say anything else because two of the small lifeboats from the ship are riding up to the shore. Snart turns his gaze upon the crew approaching and feels a flare of anger to realize most of the men are those who threw Ray overboard. 

Mick’s a step behind, his curious eyes glittering over Ray’s hunched over form. His shoulders move with the huff of breath he releases when he knows that Ray’s okay. He’s scared, he probably hurts from all the water he coughed up, but he’s okay. They’ve still got their grip on Ray, which means there’s still a chance of receiving ransom. 

Mick’s eyes then glaze over to Snart, finding his captain pushing his way up from the sand. His lips are pursed with pure fire broiling in his gaze. Mick already knows what’s going to happen and can’t help the devious smile that forms on his face. 

Snart stomps through the sand, four quick steps until he’s in front of the bearded crew member who thought this entire charade would be funny. Just another shenanigans for the books. The longer Leonard thinks about it, the angrier he gets. That’s why the second Leonard reaches the man, he lands a strong punch straight across his subordinate’s cheek. 

Minutes go by with Snart not saying anything. He simply stares at all the men in pure fury, then he decides it’s best not to say anything at all. He’ll let their minds run wild as they wonder what punishment Snart will have for them. 

He turns, walking back over to Ray. He extends his hand and says, “Come.” 

Ray looks up at him for a brief second, disbelief shining in those brown eyes. But then Ray looks away and his features grow emotionless. He’s shielding himself, forcing himself not to feel as he gets up from the sand and ignores Snart’s hand. 

Snart looks Ray over once more, noting Ray’s soaking hair and wet clothes. Sand is covering Ray’s back, but he’ll worry about that all when they get back on the ship. 

Snart leads Ray back to one of the boats they brought over, and holds the boat steady as he motions for Ray to hop in. He pushes them off the sand, then begins rowing back to the ship.

He feels the urge to say something as he sits across from Ray but he’s not sure what. So he just watches as Ray keeps his eyes down on his knees, head bent to avoid looking at Snart. 

They make it back to the ship so Snart tethers the boat to the ship. Ray climbs up first, and Snart follows after. Once they’re back on deck, Snart leads the way to his quarters, knowing that Ray is one step behind. 

-

Ray stands in the captain’s quarters, his throat still burning and his lungs aching with each breath. He’s not angry, he’s not scared. He’s  _ numb _ . He’s exhausted, his body hurts. Ray’s been defeated. He’s only been on board for a night and any hope he thought he held, any urge to fight, is squashed. Ray’s going to die, and most likely because of the pirates aboard the ship. He felt bold the night before, he felt a fire burning low and keeping his blood warm. Now the spark he held is gone. 

Snart turns, presenting a shirt to Ray. At first, Ray doesn’t take it. He wants to stop here. He wants to sit down, press his back against the wall and tell Snart to kill him now. If it means he won’t have to deal with the endless hazing he’s going to get from the rest of the crew. 

“Take it,” Snart instructs, although there’s a lack of heat in his tone. His eyes dart down to the shirt and back to Ray, trying to urge it forward. 

Ray moves, more out of an instinct for self-preservation. His fingers, which are ice cold, wrap slowly around the shirt. He pulls it back, turning his eyes down to the fabric to inspect it. He’s not sure what he’s looking for, if anything, but he draws his thumb back and forth against the thread. The feeling of the thin shirt under his fingertips feels nice. 

“Raymond,” Snart steps forward, brows convened together as he watches Ray’s strange movements. He seems as if he’s gone elsewhere, replaced with a blank stare. He doesn’t look up from the shirt either, so Snart tries again. “ _ Raymond _ .” 

That garners Ray’s attention. His eyes trail up from the shirt, grazing upwards sluggishly. Ray looks like he’s been sedated, what with his slow movements, but Snart’s more concerned about Ray’s bluish lips and ashen skin. His eyes search Ray’s eyes, flitting from one to the other.

Snart suddenly feels halted. As if seeing Ray in this quiet, defeated stage has made him stop. He feels a strange itch to say something reassuring, but he bites it back and keeps his words simple. “Are you... okay?” 

The question causes the corners of Ray’s mouth to wobble unevenly. Ray turns his eyes back down to the shirt, his fingers tightening around the fabric as if it’s the only thing keeping him standing. Ray opens his mouth, only to close it and breathe. He breathes again until he finally decides on his words. 

“You’ve won,” Ray’s voice is low, as broken as the brown eyes he sets on Snart. “I can’t do this. I don’t  _ want  _ to do this.” 

Snart feels cold wash through his veins. He’s done awful things. He’s robbed, killed, destroyed, but Snart always felt like his actions were justifiable. He stole from other pirates, pirates that had no moral code. Pirates who didn’t care about killing or hurting women and children. Each life he took was for a  _ reason _ . Snart wasn’t a madman with a thirst for blood. Snart killed to survive. And he knew about the raid other pirates were planning on Starling. Snart made sure his crew would show up. Starling was filled of rich nobles that should have homes destroyed; burned down to nothing but rubble. 

But nowhere can Snart find an excuse for breaking Ray. For being the reason behind the hurt and defeat he sees fallen in Ray’s eyes. The only reason Ray was here was because of his rich father.

Snart heaves a heavy sigh, turning to view his wardrobe. He needs to escape the pressing look Ray’s giving him. Ray wants an answer, an explanation. He’s a man that feels his life hanging on a thin wire, ready to topple over. 

“The crew won’t touch you again.” Snart tells him earnestly. He pulls his wet shirt over his head and lets it fall to the floor. He starts to shift through the wardrobe for a new shirt. 

“You think that helps?” Ray’s voice climbs a few octaves in doubt. Snart can’t help but feel relief to finally hear inflection in Ray’s voice. 

Leonard pivots on his heel, turning unhurriedly as he rests his eyes upon Ray. He still looks sickly, but Ray’s eyes have more life in them. Snart’s happy to see emotion, even if Ray’s looking at him with hatred. 

Leonard doesn’t answer Ray’s inquiry. He merely lifts his brows, waiting for Ray to continue. Distantly, he thinks how cold it is in the room. His chest lays bare, meaning each small gust of wind brings a new wave of goosebumps along his skin. He can only imagine how frigid Ray must feel, still wearing his sagging, soaked clothes. 

“Your protection is as good as nothing.” Ray grits out.

Snart feels his chest constrict, and his teeth grit together. He wants to argue. Something about Ray’s tone makes Snart want to yell back that Ray is safe, but the hypocrisy of the statement lays bare even to his own eyes. He holds his silence as he turns around and grabs a shirt out of the wardrobe and a pair of trousers as well. 

Turning around, Snart spares Ray a look as he starts his instructions. “Take your clothes off,” Snart starts, his eyes dropping down to the expanse of collarbone exposed by the sagging of Ray’s shirt. “Drape them over the stand in the corner. Get warm and get rest.” Snart forces his eyes back up to Ray’s next. “You’re going to need it.” He sidesteps Ray, allowing his words hang in the air with the weight of insinuation. Ray can make of it what he wants. For now, Snart quickly adorns a shirt before scooping his boots up by the door and heads for the exit. 

Not before Ray gets his last word in. 

His back remains to Snart, but he lifts his head as he seethingly gives his last sentiment before Snart leaves. “What kind of captain can’t control his crew?” 

Snart hesitates on that, expecting himself to feel  _ something _ . Anger, irritation, even just a niggling of annoyance. But Snart feels nothing other than concern as his eyes rest on Ray. Ray’s not looking back, but he is pulling at the fabric clinging to his form in an attempt to undress. So Snart leaves, closing the door behind him. 

He’s not sure how it happened but somehow Ray’s made Snart’s world turn upside down side in the few hours he’s been aboard the ship. 

On his way to the main deck, Snart comes across Jax. 

“Jax,” he starts, causing the crewman’s eyes to lift towards his captain. 

“Captain?” Jax asks as he comes to stand in front of Snart.

“I need you to make sure no enters my quarters. And I need you to check on Raymond in a few hours.” Snart holds Jax’s eyes, letting him know how serious this is.

Jax gives a nod. “Aye, sir. I… heard about this morning.” 

Snart doesn’t say anything. He only gives a small nod. “Thanks, Jax.” 

Jax nods in return as Snart’s about to move on, but he finds an inquiry leaving him accidentally. “Captain?” 

Snart stops at the stairs but doesn’t look back at Jax. 

“I don’t know this guy but… he ain’t done nothing wrong. We’re not the best of people, we’ve got our flaws but… This doesn’t feel right.” 

Snart takes a step back, then finally turns to meet Jax’s eyes. He sees the concern in Jax’s gaze and somehow it reminds Snart of himself. Jax’s young, he’s seen a lot but not as much as Snart. It ages a person, and Snart doesn’t want to see that happen to Jax. He wants Jax’s to keep his morals, to know what’s right and wrong once he sees it. 

“Mick brought him aboard without consulting me. And by the time I found out about Raymond it was already too late to turn around. At this point, he’ll be safer with us. Keep an eye on him for me, for just today. And I’ll keep working on getting this all figured out.” 

Jax nods, seemingly happy with that response, so Snart nods back before turning around and heading back up on deck. 

-

Jax does what’s asked of him. Two hours pass before he comes knocking on Snart’s door. There’s no response so he decides to push the door open and come quietly inside. He finds Ray on the extra cot in the room, under a large blanket and pressed into the corner. 

“Hey, man.” Jax greets awkwardly.

Ray looks pale under the blanket, and his hair hangs over his forehead, into his eyes. His black locks have started to curl from the salt of the ocean. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and his lips look chapped. 

“I’m Jax. We met last night.” Jax continues, throwing his hands up gently. “I know what happened to you this morning and I want to say… sorry. We’re not all like those jackasses. And I’m pretty sure they’re not going to be on the ship for much longer.” 

Jax’s words have no effect on Ray. He only inches further into the corner and tightens his grip on the blanket. 

“You don’t have to talk to me. I wouldn’t either. But I have been given firm instructions to check on you and to make sure you’re okay. And, to me, you’re looking really dehydrated. So why don’t you join me on a walk and we’ll get you some water.” 

Ray’s eyes slowly trail up to meet Jax’s and, boy, does Jax hate what he sees. Ray looks completely different from the night before. His eyes look hollow. 

Jax gives a small nod towards the door. 

Ray pushes out from the corner, letting the blanket fall. He moves sluggishly and doesn’t look at Jax once he stands. So Jax moves to the door and opens it for Ray, since he can’t think of anything else to say. 

They walk down the narrow passageway together, in silence. Jax’s in an awkward state of trying to think of something to say while also not pushing Ray any further than he’s been pushed today. He wants to give Ray a reassuring pat on the back, but Ray looks so fragile that Jax is afraid he’ll break if he touches him. 

They’ve reached the end of the hall, where they can either go left towards the crew’s quarters and where they store the food and water, or right, where the stairs lead up to the main deck. 

Ray pauses and his eyes drag up the stairs to the deck, where the shouting of the crew can be heard. 

“Do you want to go up and see?” Jax finds himself asking. 

Ray flinches, just a miniscule about, but enough that Jax picks up on it. Jax almost wants to apologize, but then Ray’s looking at him hesitantly, with tired brown eyes, before he gives a timid nod. 

Jax walks up the stairs first, keeping one grip on the bannister as he goes. He then uses the other hand to push open the door, revealing the midday overcast. The sky is gray yet bright, and the water is dark and stretches on and on. 

Ray stays right behind Jax, hovering as he watches all that goes on around them. He sees the crew first, working tirelessly as they pull on ropes and push things around that Ray couldn’t even begin to guess what they’re called. Then he sees the ocean, which stretches to the horizon. The realization that there’s no land for hundreds of miles is an odd feeling, one that makes Ray feel slightly dizzy. 

That is until he hears the captain’s voice. Ray spots him off to the left, with his sleeves rolled up and his white shirt tucked into his pants. He’s helping a crewmember pull on a rope that appears to be lifting one of the sails. Once they’ve completed that, the captain jogs over, yelling instructions as he goes. 

The crew all respond, taking places to help the ship work smoothly. 

Ray’s undeniably impressed with the way that the captain has taken full control. It’s as if he’s one with the ship, knowing exactly what needs to be done and when. He yells those instructions over the deck and the crew run around, taking their places and following their captain’s instructions. 

“Alright, how about we go get you something to drink now?” Jax proposes as he takes a step down. 

Ray allows his eyes to stay on the captain for a second longer before he follows after Jax. 

-

Ray had come back to the captain’s cabin after he drank two cups of water, then spent the last few hours drifting in and out of sleep. 

The next thing to wake him was the sound of the door clicking shut, and soft footsteps across the room. Snart doesn’t say anything, but Ray can hear shuffling followed by the scraping of wood against wood. Snart must be sitting down at his desk.

Ray lays rigidly in the cot, keeping his grip tight on the edge of the blanket. His jaw is clenched tightly, trailing his eyes along the imperfections in the wall across from him. Soon, there’s a small light coming from behind Ray. The flames from the gas lamp on Snart’s desk casts shadows across all surfaces, making the display a calming sight. 

Ray wishes he knew why, but he feels guilt for the argument he had with Snart earlier. He was trying to find words that could hurt Snart the worst. He  _ wanted  _ to see anger flash in Snart’s eyes, but he never got the response he’d been searching for. Snart was all too calm, as if he expected nothing else of Ray. 

Ray didn’t like that. He didn’t want to live up to Snart’s bitter thoughts of the rich. He wanted Snart to see  _ him _ , he wanted Snart to see he was more than his family’s money. 

There was also the fact that Ray knew Snart didn’t deserve Ray’s seething words. Snart had been the one to jump overboard, he pulled Ray out of the waters, he’d pressed his own lips to Ray’s. It was his shared breath that brought Ray back. Even if it was for Snart’s selfish reasons, Ray was alive because of the other man. 

The internal conflict wars within Ray furiously. There’s part of him that feels thankful, but he can’t help but think back to the root of the reason he’s on the ship. Pirates descended on the town, he probably would have died if Mick and Amaya hadn’t stepped in. But they weren’t his saviors. They were his kidnappers. 

Ray sighs as he rolls over, facing the wall. His teeth grit uncomfortably together with the force of his glower, already knowing his next course of action. He allows his eyes to close and his jaw to relax as he exhales through his nose. 

“I’m sorry.” Ray knows he’s conceding, he hears it in his own voice. He’s handing his surrender to Snart with his simple apology, but something in his mind tells him it’s the right thing to do. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. You saved me, and I should be thankful.” Ray pauses, taking another breath. “I  _ am  _ thankful. You could have let me die and you didn’t. So thank you.” Ray swallows. 

Ray is met with silence. Although his new silence is the sound of the waves cracking against the outside of the ship methodically, calming like the patter of rain against his window back home. Ray breathes again, pulling his blanket closer around himself as he feels his blood thrum through his veins in hopes of hearing Snart respond. 

He doesn’t. 

Ray lets the silence creep on a tad longer, but he still feels the need to say more itching at his skin. This time he sighs frustratedly. Maybe Snart’s not at his desk. Perhaps he’s asleep, which makes getting all of this off Ray’s chest simpler. Ray’s happy with not knowing whether his words are actually heard or not. Saying them will suffice. 

“And you are a good captain. It was poor of me to insinuate you weren’t just by the actions of a few men.” Ray’s teeth rake across his bottom lip as he thinks. “They did try to kill me but…” Ray doesn’t finish that thought. “I saw you out there. Commanding the ship, getting each member of the crew to work in harmony. It was amazing.” 

The silence continues, but Ray’s glad that’s what he’s met with. He feels less pressure weighing on him. In fact, Ray feels himself sink further into the cot, comforted now that he’s been able to speak the thoughts that had been ravaging his mind. Perhaps he’ll get some sleep after all. Especially knowing that if any of the crew want to come for him again, they’ll have to go through Snart first. 

Ray sinks further into the cot, pulling on the corner of the blanket so he can clutch it in one hand. He blinks a few times before letting out one exhale and finally falling into the realm of sleep. 


End file.
